takes place after Bones'
talk with George and before Bones leaves to the surface and Jim meets with Starfleet.
They'd managed to find a little time today, meeting for dinner in the Officer's mess like they used to. Outwardly, nothing had changed.
Inside Bones' head, his thoughts were busy, scattered in a way he didn't like. A skeleton medical crew would be available to watch over Dr McCoy, the only long-term patient left in his sickbay, but Bones hated leaving him there. He'd left instructions that he be notified the moment there was a change in his condition, but other than that - he was as helpless as anyone else.
But other than that, he was packed and ready... well, almost ready. He hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Jim about their shore leave plans. Fuck, he wasn't even sure he should mention it, except they spent a lot of their vacations together, and why would this be different?
Except it was a lot different, but in the best way possible. Except for Bones not wanting to look like he was pushing himself on Jim. That might not be welcome. Shit, fuck it all...
Exhaling, he absently began picking at his veggies, waiting for Jim to arrive.